Race Against Time: Virus
by NYC the Penguin
Summary: Following another run-in with Blowhole, Skipper contracts a mysterious, chronic, never-before-seen, possibly fatal disease. Kowalski races against time to find a cure as well as maintain order within the team, however a series of "unlucky events" constantly hinders his quest for success. As Skipper's condition steadily deteriorates, will Kowalski be able to save his leader in time?
1. Prologue

**Kowalski: Judging from the title... I'm assuming this has something to do with germs?**  
**Oh, you have no idea, my dear Kowalski.**  
**Kowalski: Well in that case, I don't think I want to know.**  
**Don't worry, it's not really that bad.**

* * *

"In this vial," the dolphin whispered, toying with a tiny crystal tube with a plastic cap, "I have all that is necessary to send you on your way to hell."

"_That_?" the penguin suppressed another jarring insult, "I don't think that much could even make a sewer rat's tiniest finger tingle."

The dolphin chuckled. "You'd be surprised."

Placing a single flipper on the cap, he released the mystery substance inside with a single twist. The strange, clear substance hissed menacingly out of the vial, sounding just like a viper out on a hunt for fresh kill.

There was an awkward silence as neither animal spoke, both waiting for something, even the tiniest movement of a feather or a fluke, to happen. It never came.

"Well, that was anticlimatic," the penguin remarked, "So much for death in a tube."

"Only time will tell," said the dolphin, who turned and escaped into the shadows of the harbor before the penguin could even start chasing him.

"BLAST!" the penguin cursed, "He got away again!"

Once again, he had been too late to catch that slippery marine mammal. Next time, next time he would not be that careless.

If there was a next time. For _him_.

* * *

**Readers, if that prologue was too short, I'm sorry. It was the best I could think up of.**  
**Kowalski: I trust that you will be able to come up with better parts as this story progresses.**  
**Here's hoping, Kowalski.  
Kowalski: Please review!**


	2. Chapter 1: Skipper's Log

**Kowalski: I'm intrigued. Especially so for whatever was in that vial.  
Understandable.  
****Kowalski: Agreed. So, what is the prologue predicting?  
****Well, why don't we find out?**

* * *

04 00 hours, Penguins' HQ.

Skipper suddenly sat up in his bunk, startled awake by yet another nightmare. That had to be, what, the fourth one since a couple of days ago? He simply couldn't shake off the recurring images of being chased by a mysterious, white, misty creature that emerged out of an impossibly tiny prison, pointing a wickedly sharp syringe at him.

He glanced around headquarters, hoping that none of the other penguins noticed. He didn't want them to mistake him for a childish guy who was afraid of such a trivial matter as a recurring nightmare. He then proceeded to grab a tape recorder and, as silently as possible, clicked it on.

"Skipper's log, 03 52 hours. I really can't believe that I almost activated the self-destruct only because I believed we were being attacked by that misty form in that dream- strike that and make it 'nightmare'- and couldn't fall asleep again..."

"Skipper's log, 02 26 hours. It's that same nightmare again. Good thing I placed a plastic cover over the self-destruct this time. I've heard that the same dream can occur twice, so unless this happens again I am certainly not calling for a psychologist..."

"Skipper's log, 02 36 hours. Reconsidering that psychologist thing I mentioned earlier. For some reason, that nightmare has recurred yet again... I've begun noticing details. That prison is really some kind of test tube... I may have to have a talk with Kowalski in the morning-"

He had punched in the Record button at that point. Taking a deep breath, he began taking down another Skipper's log.

"Skipper's log, 04 07 hours. Kowalski declined to have anything to do with the nightmare. Something tells me he's telling the truth this time... The Nightmare seems to take place in an open space with a wooden floor, therefore testifying his statement-"

His flipper suddenly lost its iron grip on the recorder. The tape clattered onto the cold, hard floor. He slowly climbed out of his bunk to retrieve it, but his head spun the moment he set his foot off it. Gripping the edge of a wall for support, he barely picked the recorder up and returned to his bunk.

"Darn, I think I've come down with something... I'm going to need something for that. I can barely think straight for now... I really should be switching this off. I'm feeling dizzy."

Click.

* * *

**Kowalski: Skipper's questioning got me a little suspicious... Why would I want to harm him in any way?  
That, we all know.  
Kowalski: So... Any hints on what's the next chapter about?  
I've resolved not to tell.  
Kowalski: Aww.  
Please review!**


	3. Chapter 2: Morning

**Kowalski: Ooh, looks like we have reviews.**  
**Wow, 7 reviews. It's better than my last story.**  
**Kowalski: So are you going to...**  
**You bet. I'm going to start revealing bit by bit what's in the vial.**  
**Kowalski: Yes!**

* * *

08 03 hours, Penguins' HQ.

"Is it just me," Kowalski thought, "Or is Skipper letting us sleep in on a weekday?"

180 seconds had passed since the normal time he should be up and about. Somehow, interpreting time in seconds made Skipper seem a lot slower than usual. That aside, he wondered why his leader would let three minutes simply slip past on a working day; usually Skipper would grab the nearest bullhorn and deafen them should they be even one second late. Three minutes seemed... Unnatural.

Gingerly climbing out of his bunk, he peered into Skipper's.

The leader was still asleep.

"Um, Skipper..." he called softly, knowing that Skipper didn't really appreciate being rudely shouted awake, "I believe you've just slept right past the wake-up call..."

For once, Skipper didn't respond.

"Skipper?" Kowalski then proceeded to gently nudge his leader.

The sleeping penguin moaned and gradually opened his tired eyes. "What...?" Skipper grumbled, "Leave me alone..."

"But it's 08 04 already," Kowalski reminded him, "Shouldn't we be up and running three minutes and fifty-seven seconds ago?"

"I'm telling you, just leave me alone..."

"But..."

"I've had enough with those buts Kowalski, now get out of my bunk and give me some peace..."

"Skipper, The zoo's opening in less than an hour. We really should be..."

"Up and... running, Kowalski? I'm not feeling very... cute and cuddly today."

Reluctantly, Kowalski did as he was told and left Skipper to himself.

"That's strange..." the genius thought, "Usually he's very strict about punctuality... Something tells me that something isn't right with Skipper..."

* * *

08 07 hours, Penguins' HQ

"TIME TO WAKE UP!"

Private sat up and rubbed his eyes. Funny, he was able to finish that Lunacorn dream before Skipper yelled him awake. Usually, Skipper'd pull him straight out of bed before he could go riding his Lunacorn toy into the sunset.

Wait. Skipper never yelled, "Time to wake up!"

As his vision cleared, the tall figure of Kowalski appeared before him- was that a worried look in his eyes?

"Kowalski? Where's Skipper?"

"I'm afraid Skipper... isn't feeling quite right now," Kowalski sighed.

* * *

**Kowalski: I'm beginning to see it...**  
**Now now, let's not spoil any surprises here. Everything will be revealed eventually.**  
**Kowalski: But did you always have to end on a cliffhanger?**  
**It's suspenseful. Is that a logical explanation?**  
**Kowalski: Touche.**  
**Please review!**


	4. Chapter 3: Burning Hot

**I love working on this story. It breaks that cliche on villain attacks.**  
**Kowalski: Yes, stories on biological attacks are rare.**  
**I've just come up with the next chapter, as well as your breakfast.**  
**Kowalski: Breakfast first?**  
**Fine. (hands Kowalski a plate of sushi)**

* * *

08 16 hours, Penguins' HQ

"Ta da!" Rico grinned, holding up a plate filled with salmon sushi.

"Ooh, sushi for breakfast!" Private was delighted at the prospect of having salmon for breakfast for once. Plus, it was a good distraction from his worries.

"That's a nice change," Kowalski agreed. He grabbed a spork and filled another plate with Rico's little masterpieces.

Private followed suit. He dug into his breakfast happily, but it was obvious that something was troubling the young penguin.

"This doesn't seem right," he thought, "Something's missing..."

He stared into his sushi. There wasn't anything wrong or different about them. They looked fine. They tasted fine. Even the scent was...

Then it hit him. Hard.

Unlike any normal weekday, the smell of breakfast fish didn't have a hint of coffee in it. Usually, this was because they had run out of instant three-in-one mix, or that the machine had broken down.

Usually.

"I need a moment." Private stood up, left the breakfast table and headed towards the bunks. He peered into the one right at the bottom.

"Skipper?"

The leader was still in bed. Strangely for him.

"Um, Skipper, are you... okay?"

Skipper moaned. Private took that as a "no". Not a good sign.

"Can't I just have a little more time to rest up, Private?" Skipper complained, in a rather weak-sounding voice.

"But Skipper, it's a weekday," Private objected.

"Oh, you're just like Kowalski," Skipper muttered. " 'Oh Skipper, it's a weekday. You can't just stay in bed and...' I just don't... feel like it..."

Kowalski got it right this time. Skipper wasn't feeling quite... okay.

"Are you... Ill?" Private asked, reaching up to feel Skipper's forehead.

"Get your flippers off me, Private," Skipper grumbled, "I'm telling you, I'm fine..."

The moment Private's flipper made contact, the intense heat he felt made him withdraw it almost immediately, while letting out an involuntary gasp.

"Skipper, you're burning up!" he fretted, "That's not 'fine' at all!"

"It's just a fever," Skipper simply waved it off, "Nothing a little medicine can't solve..."

But Private had already gone running back to the breakfast table, yelling for Kowalski. This was getting serious.

* * *

"Now, Private, you can't just go running off without finishing your breakfast..." Kowalski started, as Private skidded to a stop at his seat.

Private hurriedly finished off his breakfast, almost choking on his salmon.

"Kowalski!" he gasped, after washing his sushi down with a glass of water, "Something's horribly wrong with Skipper! He's got a high fever!"

"What!" Rico exclaimed, slamming a flipper on the table.

"That's some progress from fourteen minutes ago..." Kowalski thought, "I don't think Skipper was running a fever then..."

Private glanced at the clock and gasped. "The zoo's opening in less than an hour's time! What are we going to do?"

Kowalski scribbled a few things onto his clipboard. He scanned his calculations and hypotheses, and slapped the board onto the table in frustration.

"Gah! We'll just have to do without him," he decided, "Standing around on a sun-baked penguin habitat with a fever isn't going to do him any good."

"But Kowalski, you do know what happens to us when Skipper isn't well..." reminded Private.

"Oh, right," Kowalski returned his clipboard to his flippers and did a few more random scribbles, "For today's Feeding the Penguins performance... Private, face-planting in the pool, as usual. Rico, I suggest you take belly-slide duty. I'll take on the rest."

"Are you sure you can take all that?"

Kowalski wanted so much to yell, "What am I, a self-replicating penguin biomechanical android? Of course I can't!" But of course, he practiced self-restraint and simply said, "Uh, I guess..."

* * *

**Kowalski: I predict a very long and hard day ahead...**  
**Well, for once you guessed something within the hallmark. It _is_ going to be a long and hard day.**  
**Kowalski: That didn't make me feel any better.**  
**Ah well. I guess that's cliffhangers for you.**  
**Kowalski: Please review!**


	5. Chapter 4: Good Golly!

**Kowalski: I'm just going to say it- I'm exhausted. Do me a favor and don't tell them how much I messed up today.**  
**Consider it a deed already done. Now if you excuse me, I'll need to put this thing up.**

* * *

18 00 hours, Penguin habitat

The bell on the clock tower bonged six times."FINALLY!" exclaimed Kowalski, collapsing on the fake ice floe.

"Well, at least we got a decent harvest," Private gathered up all the fish scattered on the ground and managed to fill two buckets with sardines and mackerel.

"Fiiish!" Rico cheered.

"Let's get this back into HQ," Kowalski stood up and started dragging one of the buckets.

"Yes, Kowalski," Private nodded, as he took care of the other bucket of fish.

* * *

There were two loud clangs as the buckets hit the floor. Fish spilled out and were scattered everywhere.

"Oops," Private muttered, grinning sheepishly.

Kowalski grumbled something about butterflippers and started cleaning up the fish, when he happen to look up and straight towards the bunks...  
"GOOD GOLLY!"

"WHAT!" Rico yelled.

"Kowalski?" Private was confused, "What happened?"

The penguin genius in question had tripped over the bucket, fallen over and was currently lying awkwardly on the floor (and feeling pretty much the same way too). He was staring, beak wide open, at his leader.

Skipper's face was RED. Bright cherry red, to be exact.

But that was because he had somehow rolled over and his flat head was hanging over the edge of the bunk and his blood had obeyed the call of gravity and rushed to his cranium. That in itself would be enough to draw what little attention an ADHD penguin chick had to oneself.

But if this was the case...what sight would be so terrifying, so horrible, so powerful that it can render a genius speechless?

* * *

18 13 hours, Penguins' HQ

"I don't understand it..." Kowalski muttered rather disbelievingly, pacing back and forth in front of the bunks, "This disease is causing Skipper's condition to deteriorate faster than I can build a freeze ray!"

"Uh, quick question," Private raised a flipper, "How fast can you..."

"Sixty seconds, give or take a minute or two for cappuccino add-ons and/or anti-evil-chicken-genius defenses."

"Oh."

Kowalski had taken to, well, taking down every observation he had on Skipper. Currently, they included the Nightmare, extreme tiredness, loss of appetite, huge blotchy rashes (that's what he was horrified by), increase in complaining and a cherry-red face (though he did know that had nothing to do with the virus, it doesn't hurt to be paranoid in this scenario).

"I don't have a good feeling about this," he muttered, checking over his notes one more time to ensure he hadn't missed anything, "This disease shares many common properties with several common ailments, but the big picture just doesn't seem to fit any illness I have in my files!"

"Maybe it's a new one, then?" Private suggested.

"Oh of course it could be a new strain of virus, Private... Why is Skipper the only one to get it then?!"

"Um... Someone gave it to him?"

"Private, that's the most absurd, ridiculous..."

Then it hit him.

"OF COURSE!" Kowalski realised, "Someone must have transmitted this disease to him ON PURPOSE! Private, do you think you can achieve access to Skipper's Log?

"I thought that was your thing, Kowalski," Private piped up.

"Fine," Kowalski muttered, heading off towards SU Level 10.

* * *

**Kowalski: I see you still like to end with cliffhangers.**  
**So I'm not filling in on Level 10.**  
**Kowalski: Well in that case don't let anyone ask me what's down there.**  
**Please review!**


	6. Chapter 5: On Used Tape Duty

So, how was trying to get past Skipper's defences?  
Kowalski: Piece of cake.  
But I thought...  
Kowalski: That you'll see why below? Yes.

* * *

18 28 hours, Penguins' HQ

The elevator dinged open. Kowalski stepped out, carrying a heap of tape recorders.

"Skipper should know better than to allow me to lay the anti-intruder defences for his Log," he smirked (though nobody saw that behind a whole bunch of recorders), dumping the pile on the floor.

"Why did you take... so many of them?" Private asked out of curiosity.

"Backups," Kowalski simply replied, "Skipper believes in ensuring a steady supply of fresh tape recorders, after all he never knows when his current tape recorder runs out of, well, tape."

"Well apparently Skipper's been very busy lately," Private noted, "You've stole- I mean, borrowed a lot of used tapes there."

"Yes, and over fifty percent of them are only half used or contain incomplete files, courtesy of Rico's post-mission evidence destruction," Kowalski agreed, shooting an annoyed glance at the psycho in question.

"Sorry," Rico apologised.

"We need to find the most recent of these tapes and use them to pinpoint the exact date where the infection occurred, as well as what Skipper was doing then and who he was with at that point in time," Kowalski instructed, picking up one of the tape recorders.

"Uh, question. Does this mean we have to check each and every single one of these tapes until we find the most recent one?" Private spoke up, his flipper hovering over the play button of another tape.

Kowalski groaned. "Yes, I guess we have to. No, this one was for two months ago!"

He tossed the tape recorder he was holding to Rico, who carefully placed it next to him.

Private listened carefully to the first tape. Nope, that one was for four weeks ago. He handed the tape recorder to Rico, who put it next to the other tape after double-checking it, thus starting a pile of used and checked tapes.

"Um, Kowalski," he looked up again.

"What?"

"Will Skipper notice us rifling through his top-secret mission logs?"

Kowalski stole a sad glance at the lifeless-looking Skipper still lying in his bunk.

"For once, I'm sad to say that he probably can't."

* * *

19 00 hours, Penguins' HQ

"Hold on," Kowalski held up a flipper, just as Private was about to take another tape from the unchecked pile.

"What?" Private appeared excited, "You've found the latest tape?"

"No," Kowalski said, "I'm hungry. Let's have dinner."

"Yay! Dinner!" Rico cheered, almost causing an avalanche in the pile of checked and used tapes next to him.

* * *

21 49 hours, Penguins' HQ

The pile of unchecked tapes was now reduced to three recorders lying in the centre of the floor. Every other one had migrated onto the pile next to Rico, who was leaning on the wall, yawning his head off.

"Not this one either," Kowalski muttered tiredly, tossing yet another checked tape towards the pile. It bounced off Rico's head and into the pile. Rico, on the other flipper, face-planted on the floor.

"Well, we've only got (yawn) three more tapes to (yawn) go," Private said pointedly, "One of them has (yawn) got to be that (yawn) one we're looking for."

"Agreed," Kowalski nodded distractedly, taking one of the last tapes.

Private took the second one and slid the last one towards Rico, who just managed to stay awake to accept it.

"On my mark," Kowalski prompted, "Mark!"

All three play buttons were pushed simultaneously.

Suddenly...

"I THINK I'VE GOT IT!" Private yelled spontaneously.

"What?!" Kowalski and Rico both jumped in surprise, all their energy returning to them.

"The latest tape!" Private beamed, restarting the tape, "This is the one Skipper's been using for this past week."

"Wha..."

"Hush, Rico."

There was a moment of eerie silence before the tape began.

"Skipper's log, 23 37 hours. I have just received another message of admonition from I-know-who... Apparently he's held a few humans hostage and threatens to inflict horrible torture on them should I fail to turn up... Well, who am I to risk the lives of innocents for my own safety..."

"Three guesses on who I-know-who is," Kowalski cut in.

"Shush!" Private hissed.

"Skipper's log, 01 12 hours. That dolphin slipped right through my flippers yet again..."

"Gotcha."

"I said shush!"

"Sorry."

"... Apparently, he didn't have much to offer. Very out of character for an evil genius. All he had was a tiny vial of liquid..."

"AHA!" Kowalski suddenly exclaimed, "We have our culprit!"

"You think that vial contained the disease that infected Skipper?" Private asked, pausing the tape.

"That tape was from three days ago," Kowalski pointed out, "Skippper's been complaining about recurring nightmares ever since, and it's always the same one of a misty creature holding a needle emerging out of a test tube... or should I say vial?"

Private gasped. "So this means..."

Kowalski nodded. "Knowing the evil genius in question, he probably has a cure for the virus, and he'll probably want something in exchange for it..."

As if on cue, another tape recorder fell in through the hatch.

"Who left that thing open?!"

"Sorry," Rico apologised again.

Private waddled over, closed the fishbowl hatch and picked up the recorder.

"I swear, if I see another one of those things..." Kowalski was muttering, before Private stuffed the newcomer into his flippers.

"Let's just listen to it!" Private cut in, pushing the play button...

* * *

**Kowalski: Come on, can't we just play that tape in the same chapter? I'm getting pretty sick of tape recorders...**  
**Por favor, it's just for dramatic effect. Readers like stories with a little suspense and dramatic effect.**  
**Kowalski: If you must.**  
**Gracias.**  
**Kowalski: Please review!**


	7. Chapter 6: A Proposal

**Thank you for the reviews everyone! :D  
****Kowalski: Now are you going to play the tape?  
****It's the only thing I can do now...  
****Kowalski: ****_Just play it._**

* * *

With a crackle, the tape began.

"Greetings, peng-you-wins. You should have guessed my identity by now..."

"I knew it!" Kowalski thought triumphantly. He didn't want to miss out anything, or get shushed again.

"...and I suppose you have already figured out what happened three nights ago. Therefore, I shall skip to the important part.

"The infection is consisted H24N38 virus, a design meticulously cultured in my own laboratory. Its complex protein coat makes creating a cure with modern technology near impossible. The virus attacks the muscular and nervous systems of the victim, thus depleting the victim's strength and mental wellness. I suppose this isn't bearing down very well on your mental wellness... The virus also has the ability of one-touch mutation- just a push of an activation button I have here, and you can start choosing which flowers will look good on your dear Skipper's coffin.

"Now, I'm sure you're wondering why I'm telling you all this."

"Why indeed," Kowalski muttered, rolling his eyes.

"I have an offer for you, peng-you-wins. I have the very cure for the H24N38 virus, an antidote that will eradiate the infection completely, and you probably know I want something in exchange for something so expensive as your Skipper's life..."

"Fifty thousand cans of sardines?" Kowalski suggested before faceflippering, "No, wait, a life is priceless... Fine, name it."

"I want you to surrender yourselves to me."

"That's it. You can find me in my lab..." Kowalski declared, beginning to stand up, only to be stopped by Private.

"I'm sure we can find a way out of this," the young penguin told him.

"Don't even think about finding a way out of this, for I have a superconcentrated heat ray trained on you..."

Kowalski shot Private a sideways glance.

"... which is standing right outside your so-called top-secret HQ..."

"WHAT?!" all three penguins gasped.

"... waiting to fry all of you to a crisp as soon as you peng-you-wins put so much as a toe into any of your fourteen escape tunnels or outside of your habitat fence."

"So much for escaping," Private sighed.

"If you decide to surrender, just show yourselves. I have cameras and sensors ready 24/7 to detect your physical presence. Take your time deciding, peng-you-wins. If I'm correct, your Skipper has exactly sixty-seven hours left to him, so you had better make up your minds soon..."

After a burst of evil laughter which echoed around the HQ, the tape ended with a click.

* * *

"Sixty-seven hours?!" Private fretted, "What are we going to do? Skipper can't hold on longer than that! I don't want him to die..."

"Neither do I," Kowalski agreed, "I just wish I could create my own cure right now, but the virus apparently has a very complex protein coat, lowering the chances of finding a suitable cure to tackle it."

"What!" Rico objected.

"And if we step out of our HQ we'd be fried," Private added depressingly, "I guess the only way is to surrender..."

To his surprise, Kowalski smacked him.

"We can't just give in to Blowhole like this!" Kowalski told him, "As Skipper always liked to put it, we penguins go down fighting!"

"But what do we have to fight for here?" Private asked, "We're stuck in here until we make our decision."

There was a moment of silence.

"Right..." said Kowalski, "You go on wondering about that. I think... I may have a way around this situation."

"You do?"

"Shh. He may have the HQ bugged. I'm working on something."

* * *

**Kowalski: I don't think this is your best writing.**  
**Yeah, I've hit a narrow spot there. I don't do villains muy bueno.**  
**Kowalski: Well, you tried your best.**  
**Please review, and try not to give me negative ones, I am alladoxaphobic.**


	8. Chapter 7: The Race Begins

**Kowalski: Apparently, your readers like that last chapter.**  
**Yeah, that just means anything outside of the narrow spot just got better.**  
**Kowalski: Also I'd rather The Plan remains classified until the time comes.**  
**Noted. Now, may I present to you... Chapter 7!**

* * *

01 31 hours, Penguins' HQ

Private tossed and turned in his bunk. However much he tried, nothing could force him into oblivion. He still couldn't ignore the burning pain and worry he had for, well, that dear flat-headed penguin three bunks underneath him.

As silently as possible, he climbed out of his bunk and peered at Skipper. Seeing his leader in such a sorry state, tears welled up in his blue eyes. Why did this have to happen to them? Why Skipper? Why did Skipper have to go through such pain and misery? Private saw no reason in why Skipper deserved this. He absolutely couldn't, even considering that Skipper hadn't been particularly nice to him at times.

"Please, Skipper," he whispered, "don't die on us... I know you can't hear me, but..."

Any other words were lost in his sobs, as he buried his head in a flipper and wept into it. He didn't know what to do. He wanted to save Skipper so badly, but he didn't want to give himself up to that dolphin.

"I'm sorry, Skipper. This isn't insubordination, but... I can't do anything for you right now..."

* * *

08 31 hours, Penguins' HQ

"Gentlemen," Kowalski began, with his clipboard in one flipper, "I feel a need for us to come to a final decision _right now. _According to my intel eleven hours have already passed, which means we have only fifty-five hours before Skipper... goes. We're not going to break down like_ that last time_."

He started scribbling random things on his clipboard.

"I have a plan to overcome this problem," he proclaimed, "I'm pretty sure none of you want to give in to that dolphin, so here's what we'll be doing. I'll take my best guess at creating an alternative to the cure he offers us, while you two make sure Skipper stays unharmed from any outside forces... Yes, that includes the lemurs... disturbances and anything else that could disturb him. Rico, I do not recommend the use of explosive of any kind. And as a reminder, nobody is to attempt an escape, unless your idea of escape from this is to allow yourself to be fried to perfection. Any questions?"

* * *

10 02 hours, Penguins' HQ

Rico ad Private stood sentry by the bunks, dressed in biohazard-proof suits, defending their leader from any form of assault, disturbance, or lemurs coming to invite them to a party. Yes, the latter was a tempting offer, but with Skipper's life on the line, there really wasn't much choice but to send them flying back into their habitat. Already, that had happened three times within the last one and a half hours.

"I guess this is bearing pretty hard on you, huh, Rico?" Private asked.

Rico didn't say anything.

"Same here," Private sighed, "I just wish we could do something to help... But this is the least we can do now."

* * *

10 05 hours, Kowalski's lab

The scientist was working feverishly, mixing up different-coloured chemicals in a beaker and testing it from time to time, checking if he had achieved his goal. A soldering iron, a welding torch, a few circuit boards and random scraps of metal lay on a lab bench behind him. A cupboard door somewhere off to his right was left slightly ajar, its contents glowing faintly with green light.

"Negative again," Kowalski complained, staring at his pH detector once more. He cast a fleeting glance at the door to ensure that nobody was peeking. When he was satisfied that not a soul was watching, he walked over to the table, picked up the welding torch and proceeded towards the cupboard door...

* * *

11 18 hours, Penguins' HQ

The sounds of a small explosion was heard through Kowalski's lab door, followed by a little cursing, then the sound of a door being slammed.

"Need any help, Kowalski?" Private asked, poking his head around the lab door.

For some reason, Kowalski's upper half was completely coated in a thin layer of soot, and he had his back to the cupboard, panting hard. For other reasons unknown he also had a welding torch in his right flipper; something not usually seen in use when working solely with chemicals.

"Thank you, Private," Kowalski tried his best at a 'nothing's wrong' face, "but I'm doing well for the time being. You can get back to protecting..."

"Why are you holding a welding torch?" Private cut in, purely out of curiosity.

"Oh, um..." it took Kowalski thirty seconds before he answered, "Some of the chemicals accidentally corroded the table and left a hole in it. I had to fix it."

Private stole a glance at the table. It looked whole and unharmed, as far as he was concerned.

* * *

12 15 hours, Penguins' HQ

After carefully lemur-proofing the hatch, Rico and Private settled down for lunch.

"Say, where's Kowalski?" Private asked.

Rico scanned the room and shrugged when he didn't spot the tall penguin.

"Still working in his lab, I suppose," Private reasoned, digging into his fish. He was just about to take a bite when Kowalski's excited voice screamed, "YES! I've done it!"

Both penguins immediately dashed towards the lab.

* * *

Again, there was the noise of a door being slammed at high speed.

"What is it?" Private gasped, "You've found the cure?"

Kowalski showed them a beaker of sickly green... _stuff_.

"Eww," Rico grimaced.

"Does this look like a_ cure_ to you?" Kowalski asked his rhetorical question, "I was just going to mention that I've managed to gain a_ lead_ on the cure. It's not there yet, but I've, erm, made some progress."

"Why did you have to shout it out loud then?"

"It's the only progress I've made _all day_."

"Good for you," Private turned and headed back out, "Well come on, have some lunch. I don't like the idea of you starving yourself in there."

Kowalski stole a glance at the cupboard. "If it won't take too long..."

* * *

23 01 hours, Kowalski's lab

After all the others had fallen asleep, Kowalski glanced at his work, then checked the digital clock on his wall. Over 12 hours had passed. He need to act quickly.

As silently as possible, he carefully carried a large object out of the cupboard and stood it up on the floor.

"Looks well enough," he muttered, standing back to admire his handiwork.

Then, he threw the switch.

* * *

**Sorry 'bout the many line breaks, but I wanted time to run a little faster. I do hope this adds a little mystery to the story though.**  
**Kowalski: I sense many piles of built-up suspense begin to wobble...**  
**Support them with wooden beams until the time comes then. I'm kidding, I'm kidding.**  
**Kowalski: Please review!**


	9. Chapter 8: Take Me Away

**Kowalski: For the sake of eliminating obvious plot twisters, I think I've misplaced several of my more well-known inventions... Other than that, the fact has nothing to do with this plot.**  
**And for anyone who's wondering about the mysterious "thing" and/or Kowalski's cupboard, I suggest you pay close attention to whatever I'm going to write from this point onwards. **  
**Kowalski: After all, NYC can be a very cryptic writer. But enough talk. Let's start with Chapter 8!**

* * *

08 13 hours, Penguins' HQ

The lab had a "Unauthorized Personnel Prohibited" sign nailed on it.

"Since when did the lab become a rank-10 classified region?" Private wondered, staring at the sign.

"According to my calculations," said Kowalski, "last night." **(A.N. If you intend to find out Kowalski's "real" plan, this is one highly important clue.**)

"So you don't want to be disturbed when you're trying to find the cure."

"Well, obviously."

* * *

Once more, Rico and Private stood sentry at Skipper's bunk, still in their biohazard-proof suits. The mini explosions and hissing noises in Kowalski's lab were now becoming more and more frequent, but since nobody other than Kowalski was allowed inside, neither of them knew what was going on inside. Both had assumed that he was still working on his cure and subsequently failing.

"I do hope Kowalski's made some more progress," Private spoke up.

Rico glanced towards the bunk they were protecting. "Uh huh," he agreed.

Suddenly, the lab door was blasted open and Kowalski was blown out at the speed of a torpedo, which just goes to show how little progress he'd been making.

"Tesla's coil," he cursed, "I really shouldn't have mixed the blue with the green..."

"Kowalski, are you alright?" Private fretted.

The scientist picked himself up and dusted off the soot still clinging on to his feathers. "Never better. But I've been thinking... If we decided to turn ourselves in, Blowhole's promise means that he'll have to take us back here so we can administer the antidote. We could just work out an escape plan from that point."

"Well, that does make a lot of sense," Private said after a bit of consideration, "So what you're saying is, we turn ourselves in, wait for them to send us back here, then escape before they can take us back to Blowhole?"

"That's the general idea," Kowalski nodded, "Of course, chances are that they'll detain us in some sort of prison to ensure that doesn't happen... But I have a backup plan for that."

"Ooh," Rico cut in.

"I like the sound of that idea," Private agreed.

"Well then, let's show ourselves," Kowalski decided, already heading up the ladder towards the hatch, "After you."

It was a good thing nobody bothered to close the lab door. A simple look inside and Kowalski's plan would be completely busted.

* * *

The moment all three penguins were fully visible outside, a cage fell on top of them.

"Hey!" Rico protested, attempting to break out of the cage. Private was about to stop him when Kowalski shook his head.

"We have to make this look natural," he told Private, "Don't let Blowhole suspect anything."

"Alright, then," Private sat down rather uneasily, "I'll trust your plan this time..."

Half a dozen lobsters appeared of nowhere and scuttled towards the cage. One of them was holding a silver tape recorder (**A.N. Skipper uses a plain grey tape recorder, so I had to come up with something different somehow**), which he started playing.

"So, peng-you-wins... You have decided to join me. To be honest, I don't know if you take that as a smart choice. I sure you don't relish the idea of _insubordination_ towards your commanding officer..."

"Oh, please," Kowalski muttered.

"... but I assure you, I am a dolphin of my word. As soon as you arrive on Coney Island, you will be escorted to my new secret lair, where I will personally hand the antidote over to you. Proceeding from that, an armed escort will return you here for exactly five minutes while you administer the antidote..."

"See, I was right about that!" Kowalski smirked.

"After that, you will be left under max security while we completely rehabilitate you..."

"Re... Rehabilitate?" Private's face clearly betrayed his terror, "I don't like the sound of that at all..."

"You shouldn't," Kowalski agreed.

"I'll be seeing you at the subway station soon, peng-you-wins. Don't try anything funny; these particular lobsters know more kung fu than all four of you combined. And remember, the clock is ticking."

With a soft _click_, the tape ended. Immediately after that, the lobsters hefted the cage on their backs and, with the speed of a professional Olympic runner, scuttled away towards the nearest subway station.

* * *

**So, I wonder if you've begun _suspecting_ yet.**  
**Kowalski: Some of the readers should have a few suspicions on me right now.**  
**_Sí, sí_. You may begin speculating in your reviews. I'd like to see what_ ideas_ you have for what may happen next.**  
**Kowalski: And for that matter... Please review!**


	10. Chapter 9: Silver Lining

**Kowalski: It appears the last chapter's intrigued several readers.**  
**That means I've done it. Gone and added in just a little too much negativity.**  
**Kowalski: In that case, Plan B.**

* * *

08 49 hours, Back of some random subway train (**A.N. I wonder why they still know what time is it without the clock...**)

"I was kind of hoping they'd find a way to get us inside the train at least," Private muttered, "The air in the subway tunnels isn't exactly clean..."

"It's pretty much impossible anyway," Kowalski explained, "Given the size of the cage and the lobsters' bright red colouration, camouflage of any kind would require that the entire carriage be full of visually impaired people... And the chances of that are... and this is an estimation of course, impossible."

"Hey! Shut it!" one of the lobsters snapped, banging a claw on the cage bars. The entire cage vibrated.

"Yeah, right..." Rico rolled his eyes. He attempted to hack up something to break them all out, but another lobster stuck a clamp over his beak.

"Dang."

* * *

09 01 hours, Subway station (**A.N. Forgive me if I don't know what it's called, I don't live in the U.S.**)

Strangely enough, the entire station was completely devoid of humans. The penguins could almost imagine tumbleweeds rolling around on the desolate station platform.

"How come there's nobody here?" Private wondered.

"Shut it! The Boss will be here any second," a lobster to his right growled at him. He wondered vaguely if it was a requirement for all lobsters to include "shut it" in every sentence they spoke to any penguin.

A few more minutes passed. Finally, a voice shouted from below the platform, "What are you doing up there, you idiots! Can't your tiny crustacean brains remember that I built the access tunnel in the subway itself?!"

Everyone gasped and whipped around. There was Dr. Blowhole on his Segway in a rather inconspicuous secret tunnel a few feet away next to the tracks, and he definitely did_ not_ look happy.

"Sorry, Boss," one of the lobsters hurriedly apologised, starting to drag the cage towards the edge of the platform, causing the bottom to scrape against the floor, and a deafening squealing noise.

"Whoa, wait," another lobster halted him, "Won't they just fall off the platform and get zapped by the live rail?"

This was followed by a few seconds of heated discussion as to how they should move the penguins' cage down with minimum damage sustained.

"Oh, good golly," Kowalski muttered, "And you'd think they would have considered this earlier."

"SILENCE!" Blowhole ordered.

All the lobsters clammed up.

"Just find a way to bring that cage down, you imbeciles," Blowhole snapped.

Eventually, the cage was transported into the secret tunnel via a slide made out of interconnecting lobsters holding on to each other's claws and tails. As the penguins' metal prison slid along, Private momentarily forgot the dark situation and squealed, "Whee!" all the way down.

"Took you long enough," Blowhole simply said, ordering his lobsters to move the cage onto a small wagon attached to his Segway. Without another word, he carted the penguins away down the tunnel.

* * *

"Look," Kowalski stood up as much as he could (the cage was a bit of a squeeze), "we had a deal. We turn ourselves in, and you'd let us cure Skipper."

"That's what you said on the tape," Private added.

"Yeah," Rico agreed.

"I know what I said, peng-you-wins!" Blowhole was visibly annoyed, "Yes, I am going to send you back for a brief... visit. Of course, I'm going to need a more secure cage for that. Just in case you try to make a run for it."

"Darn it!" Kowalski cursed, "He knows!"

"Indeed. Lobsters! Bring me the chromium cage."

The penguins watched as a dozen lobsters wheeled in a shiny and definitely sturdier-looking cage. They hauled the penguins into that one and locked it with a 7-digit numbered lock. Kowalski studied it.

"Seven-digit with chrome-plated steel casing. Nice. And since you have us locked up with nowhere to go, are you going to uphold your side of the deal?"

Blowhole handed him a tiny vial filled with a transparent, blue liquid. "Fine. Here, take it. This will eradicate the infection and any damage done."

"Really?" hope glinted in Private's eyes.

"I am a dolphin of my words. Now... Lobsters! Prepare the mobile underwater lair and set a course for..."

A lobster scuttled in from a hidden door.

"Sorry, Doc, but the mobile lair's generator and engine are broken," he reported.

"What! Oh well. Too bad for you, peng-you-wins. You're going to be late."

* * *

"And so he just tosses us aside just like that," Private muttered.

"Well, at least we have this," Kowalski held up the vial.

"But it isn't any use until we get back!" Private pointed out.

"Right," Kowalski put his flipper down, "You had to mention that."

Before they could converse any further, the lobster that had reported the malfunction earlier scuttled up to the cage.

"What do you want?" Kowalski demanded.

The lobster held up a claw to quieten him down. "Shh. Don't tell anyone but, I'm here to help you."

"You are?" Private was delighted at the prospect of help in such an unlikely situation.

Kowalski smacked him. "He's a lobster, Private! Just one of Blowhole's minions!"

"Seriously, I'm being honest!" the lobster insisted.

"Prove it," said Kowalski.

The lobster motioned towards the hidden door he had come through earlier. "You know the engine ad generator breakdown?"

"I thought you reported it," Private reminded.

"Yes," the lobster confirmed, "but that was because I sabotaged it."

"Ooh," said Rico.

"Fine," Kowalski gave in, "Give us your name and I'll accept your help."

The lobster sighed and muttered something about putting in too much suspicion.

"Name's Colin Skiwal," he awkwardly extended a claw in friendship, "Please to be of your acquaintance."

* * *

**Wow. That's pretty good, considering I ran into a block somewhere in the middle of this chapter.**  
**Kowalski: I don't remember that last bit to be cut off at that point.**  
**I still like cliffhangers. So there.**

**Alright, announcement time. I'll be unavailable for the entire week starting from tomorrow, because I'll be on vacation in Taiwan (F.Y.I, it's that island off the eastern coast of China). I'll post the next chapter ASAP when I get back. That done, _adios_ for now, my _amigos_!**


	11. Chapter 10: Surprise, Surprise

**We're back!  
Kowalski: Ooh, and here's the next chapter to end your long wait, readers.  
Wow, we've made it to Chapter 10. That sure is good progress.  
****Kowalski: Yes, if only I could just... say the same for this di...  
****Don't sell it, Kowalski! Let's just keep it under wraps until it's time. Oh yeah, thanks for helping me hit 45 reviews. :)  
**

* * *

"Pleased to meet you, Colin," Private beamed, accepting the lobster's claw.

"Yeah, right," Kowalski muttered, "Look, if you're here to help us, why don't you release us right now?"

Colin shook his head. "Remember, Boss has that one-touch mutation button. Once he realizes you're gone, he'll push that button. And once he does, Skipper goes before you can even step out of this corridor."

"You do have a point there..." Kowalski agreed, "And this is your best plan?"

"You going by it or not?"

An awkward silence.

"Fine. What is it?"

Colin brought out another vial, which was filled with an identically colored liquid as the antidote.

"I'm swapping this for what you have there. I'll then make sure this gets to your Skipper in less than half the the time required, then he can break in and rescue you three before you become part of Boss's army. Sounds legit enough?"

"I think we can trust him," Private prompted.

"Yes, and you also think there's a little man in the fridge who turns the light on and off," Kowalski shot back, "and you'll never catch him either. But perhaps, just this once..."

He held out the antidote. Colin gingerly took it in his claws.

"Don't worry," said the lobster, "I won't fail you."

And without another word, he scuttled off.

"Gosh, what a kind guy," Private remarked, "but something sounds familiar about his voice..."

* * *

Colin had only gone for about five minutes when alarms sounded throughout the lair.

"What's going on?" Private looked around worriedly.

"SECURITY BREACH IN SECTOR B-DASH-ONE-TWELVE," a deep voice boomed over the intercom, "INTRUDER IDENTIFIED: ONE PENGUIN..."

"A penguin?" even Kowalski was perplexed, "But we're all here, and as far as I'm concerned Skipper's still bedridden!" (**A.N. This fan fiction is OC-free.**)

"Maybe he's here to rescue us!" Private brightened up.

"Yay!" Rico cheered.

There was a noise of lasers firing, then a moment of silence.

"INTRUDER HAS ESCAPED," the voice announced.

"Aww," Rico was disappointed.

Blowhole drove his Segway up to them. "Well, it appears the mobile lair was sabotaged by... whoever that was... who escaped. I intend to boil a couple of lobsters later... but we have more, er, important matters to deal with first."

"Why are you helping us like this?" Private wondered.

"To ensure your complete allegiance, of course."

* * *

10 02 hours, Blowhole's MUL (mobile underwater lair)

Private peered at the tiny vial they had swapped their precious antidote for. Somehow, he had a strong feeling Colin could be trusted. He was a lobster, but there was something about his voice. Something... familiar. Someone he had met once. Private was sure of it, but he just couldn't place a flipper on who it reminded him of.

* * *

11 32 hours, outside Penguins' HQ

"Come on, hurry up," one of the half dozen lobsters poked Kowalski in the back, "Boss can't wait forever."

The strategist almost dropped the vial in his flippers.

"The container is delicate!" he shot back, "Even the slightest jolt could shatter its glass! We have to be extremely gentle and careful with this..."

"Yeah, whatever," the lobster rolled his eyes.

Slowly, the three penguins and their lobster escorts descended into the penguins' headquarters. Private glanced at the clock and gasped.

"We're almost out of time!" he fretted, "Kowalski! Please hurry!"

Kowalski just stood there, staring at the bunks, the vial still unopened in his flippers.

"No, we're not."

He smiled. Waddling over to Skipper's bunk, flanked by two lobsters, he placed his free flipper on the bedsheets and dramatically pulled them off.

The bunk was empty. Cue the collective gasp.

The bedsheets caught on the light switch and flipped it off, plunging the entire HQ into darkness. (**A.N. It was a cloudy day. I should have mentioned this earlier.**)

"Hey, who turned off the..." one lobster roared, before he was knocked out from a blow to the back.

* * *

**I tried my best to write as much as possible in this chapter, seeing that this is the tenth. And the cliffhanger probably killed a few readers. Still, I hope you enjoyed this chapter.**  
**Kowalski: Please review!**


	12. Chapter 11: Kowalski's Flashback (pt 1)

**50 reviews! You guys are the best! :D For that, here's the next chapter!  
Kowalski: And this is where the story starts to resolve.  
****Indeed. This chapter is basically going to tie up most of the loose ends I've purposely laid around as clues.  
****Kowalski: You've been placing them very inconspicuously indeed.  
****Let's see how many you managed to catch. Chapter 11 starts... NOW!**

* * *

One of the central lightbulbs flickered on to reveal the six lobsters, knocked out and tied up in a heap on the floor.

"That should keep them down for a while," Kowalski's voice remarked.

"But... but those were Blowhole's elite ninja lobsters," Private was utterly shocked at this turn in events, "How were you able to take them all down?"

"An' where's 'Ipper?" Rico added.

"Right here," another voice announced.

There was a click and the rest of the HQ was flooded with light. Rico and Private squinted in the sudden glare.

Kowalski still stood by the bunks, the vial holding the fake antidote full to the brim. And there, by the light switch... was Skipper, alive and well, with a length of rope in his flippers.

But there stood yet another penguin next to him. Private's vision was still a little fuzzy. He rubbed his eyes and looked up to see...

"KOWALSKI?!"

There were two Kowalskis in the HQ.

"But... how?" Private was completely perplexed.

The Kowalski next to the light switch pulled out a remote control unit and pushed a button. Almost immediately, the Kowalski next to the bunks crumpled on the ground.

"Blowhole should have installed a bio-sensor," Kowalski grinned.

* * *

Skipper tossed the last lobster into the closet and slammed it shut.

"Right," he double-locked the door and joined the rest of the team around the table, "Kowalski, I think you owe us all an explanation."

Kowalski was seated opposite the recently recovered commander. "I'm aware of that," he nodded, "and thus I shall lay it all out in the open for you."

* * *

**(A.N. Paragraphs in italics are part of Kowalski's Flashback.)**

"I will begin from the very beginning of my plan... at 10 05 hours the day before."

_The day before  
10 05 hours  
_

_I opened the cupboard door to reveal the now broken machine. I had recovered it from the Hoboken Zoo after we eventually defeated our android duplicates, hoping that it would come to good use in the foreseeable future. Of course, I couldn't let the others know; they would never allow me to possess a machine that could easily produce androids that knew our every weakness, saw every chink in our armor._

_Firing up the welding torch, I started repairing the machine, which was glowing a faint green due to some chemical leaking out of a canister on its inner walls. As far as I know it wasn't radioactive, but it was probably essential for the machine to produce the best results. But when I tried to soak it up with a cloth, it blew up in my face.  
_

_Private heard the noise and hurried over. I slammed the cupboard shut, but forgot to put away the welding torch. I had to invent some lie to keep him away so that my plan could remain a secret..._

* * *

"Why did it have to be a secret?" Private wondered, "We won't have to do this if you had just told us."

"That was to ensure you were all able to act naturally in front of Blowhole," explained Kowalski, "If you all knew that Kowalski was an android all along, one of you is bound to let it slip."

"That makes sense... sort of," Private agreed.

"Now, I'll move onto 12 15 hours, same day..."

* * *

_The day before  
12 15 hours_

_Huh, I hadn't expected that I'd find a substitute for the green liquid that easily. The machine was finally restored to working condition. Now all that was left to do was to test it out. Taking a deep breath, I pushed a green button on a nearby control panel.  
_

_The cupboard shook and rattled, smoke pouring out of the crack between the double doors. This carried on for a few moments before suddenly dying down.  
_

_Flippers quivering, I gingerly opened the cupboard doors. Inside it was a perfectly identical android duplicate of myself.  
_

_"YES! I've done it!"  
_

_Almost immediately, I heard footsteps. I hurriedly slammed the cupboard doors closed and grabbed a random beaker._

* * *

"And you can probably guess what I did that night," Kowalski turned towards the (now deactivated) android copy of himself.

"You switched yourself out with the robot," Skipper answered, "I'm not deaf, Kowalski. For a robot, you really need a lesson on stealth techniques."

"I don't have all my stealth training copied into my DNA!" Kowalski pointed out.

"Point taken," Skipper muttered.

* * *

_Earlier that day_  
_08 14 hours_

_"Pay attention, because I'm only going to say this once," I told the duplicate, "You are to explain to the others the cover-up plan- that one about giving in, Blowhole's promise... You know, what I went through with you last night. Convince them to agree. And whatever happens, do not show any evidence that you aren't the real Kowalski. If all goes well, I'll see you later once I receive an all clear."_

_The android nodded. I handed him two beakers, one filled with blue liquid and the other green liquid._

_"Time for a reality test. I want to see you blast out of this lab the way only a well-trained Kowalski can."_

* * *

_Earlier that day_  
_08 49 hours_

_I checked the Bluetooth headset I had been tuning into since the android blasted itself out. Apparently, they were still on the subway train. Or more accurately, according to what I heard Private mention, stuck outside the last passenger carriage. Oh, well. That was one of the few things I couldn't do anything about._

* * *

_Earlier that day_  
_09 00 hours_

_The sound of a cage bottom scraping on a floor entered my headset. They had arrived at their destination. My turn to play._

_I walked over to the closet and pulled out a set of soda bottle jetpacks and the disguise. Slipping into the disguise, I put on the jetpack and flew off towards Coney Island._

* * *

**The chapter's getting kind of long, so I'll cut it off here.**  
**Kowalski: You only cut it off for a cliffhanger.**  
**What, readers love good cliffhangers. Besides, your flashback is going to take a while to finish.**  
**Kowalski: Fine. Please review!**


	13. Chapter 12: Kowalski's Flashback (pt 2)

**Kowalski: Now can I finish?**  
**Yes, yes you can.**  
**Kowalski: By the way, I did have a cloning machine. Remember the episode Endangerous Species?**  
**Oh yes, that one with the dodo. But still, that won't work without that Higgs Boson particle. Anyhoo, enough with the advanced biophysics. Let's get Chapter 12 on the road!**

* * *

"A disguise?" something hit Private, "So that means you were..."

"Yes," Kowalski nodded, "I was. Now, may I continue?"

"Yes, but how were you able to..."

"It's all in the throat, Private, all in the throat."

* * *

_09 23 hours, Coney Island lair_

_I pulled off the lobster disguise. The plan was going perfectly so far. I had the antidote and, if all goes well, Rico and Private would be saved as well. Pulling on my jetpack, I scrambled into a nearby air vent._

_"Let's see. The exit should be... this way!" I recalled, crawling towards the light at the end of one of the vents. It was tiring and slow, but with precious cargo on board, I couldn't risk putting on any speed. And if my sense of time was correct, it had taken me at least five minutes to reach Rico and Private's current location earlier via the same path, so I should be able to get out of here in about the same time..._

_I heard a click._

_"Oh for pity's sake," I cursed under my breath. I had just set off the intruder alarm. Not caring for being careful any more, I made a mad dash for the end of the air vent. Quickly opening the grate blocking the opening (which I had loosely attached when I first entered), I dashed towards the lair's exit._

_"Hey! Stop right there!" a few lobsters on guard duty yelled, grabbing a few laser cannons and firing potshots at me. Dodging and weaving through the random bursts of highly concentrated light, I made it to the control panel which operated the steel barrier between the lair and my freedom. Popping its main circuit board open, I frantically started reassembling the entire apparatus, hoping that I could somehow rewire it to open before the lobsters caught up with me._

_I winced as a laser blast caught me on the left flipper. Ignoring the slight injury, I fixed the last wire into place and watched as the steel door slowly opened. Before the lobsters could close it again, I activated my jetpack and flew off into the late morning sun, heaving a sigh of relief._

* * *

Kowalski studied his left flipper. A few feathers and a tiny patch of skin was singed, and the injury went no further than that. He decided to ignore it and carried on.

* * *

_10 05 hours, Penguins' HQ_

_Flippers quivering, I broke the seal on the vial and transferred the liquid into a glass pipette. This had to work. If Blowhole had somehow lied to us, this entire plan would have gone down the drain and mixed with the sewage._

_"Careful, Kowalski..." I muttered, gingerly inching over to Skipper's bunk, the pipette held tightly in my right flipper. Opening up a crack in his beak, I carefully dropped the entire volume of liquid in. This was followed by a few nerve-racking seconds of waiting._

_"Gah, I knew he was lying..." I cursed, starting to walk away, when I heard a moan.  
_

_"Uhh... What happened?"  
_

_"SKIPPER!" I immediately whipped around and collided with him. He appeared perfectly normal, all visible signs of the infection wiped off the slate as if it never happened.  
_

_"Stand... down, Kowalski... I'm perfectly fine..." Skipper gasped, "Just... not... so... TIGHT!"  
_

_I realised I was squeezing the life out of him. Apparently, I was being too caught up in the moment.  
_

_"Oh, sorry," I apologised, releasing him.  
_

_It took him a few seconds to catch his breath. When he did, he stood up and scanned the HQ.  
_

_"Where's Rico and Private?" he wondered.  
_

_"Uh... They're over at Blowhole's."  
_

_"WHAT THE DEUCE?!" Skipper yelled directly in my face.  
_

_I held up my flippers. "Skipper, relax! They're safe, I can assure you that. But they will be in a cage when they arrive."  
_

_Skipper sighed. "Fine. I still feel like flying over on a jetpack and punching that dolphin in the face though."  
_

_"I have a better idea." I cut in._

* * *

"So this was your real plan?" Private asked.

"In simple terms? Yes," Kowalski confirmed, "Pretty ingenious, yes?"

"You _are_ a genius," Skipper said pointedly.

"So... What now?" Private wondered, "Blowhole's bound to notice if we're gone for too long."

"The plan doesn't end here," said Kowalski, shooting him a mysterious look.

* * *

**Kowalski: It's hard to explain the Plan in simple terms... Thanks for the editing, NYC.**  
**My pleasure. Now if you excuse me, I have to go work on the epilogue.**  
**Kowalski: Alright then. Please review!**


	14. Epilogue

**I've had a great time writing this story. (sniffs) But all good things must come to an end, I suppose.**  
**Kowalski: Indeed. It's time for the end: The Epilogue.**  
**Let's get the last duckling in line then.**

* * *

11 39 hours, Coney Island lair

The cage arrived back at the lair, not a penguin missing.

"The antidote has been administered, boss," one of the lobsters reported.

"And none of you lost any of the peng-you-wins," Blowhole noted, "Very well done. Now, leave them here with me. I'll personally escort them to the max security cell later."

"Yes, boss."

The four lobsters scuttled off.

* * *

11 48 hours, Coney Island lair

"Say, Blow-face," Kowalski glanced up at the dolphin, "Suspected anything yet?"

"What do you mean?" Blowhole stopped his Segway and glared at the penguin, "Other than the fact that you're more talkative than usual?"

He squinted. "Wait. Is it just me, or are all of your eyes glowing red..."

The truth hit him. He yelped (**A.N. Imagine him doing that XD**) and scooted away as far as possible from the cage before the three penguins spontaneously detonated.

"_PENG-YOU-WINS_!" he roared.

* * *

11 50 hours, Penguins' HQ

Watching through a video bug long since attached to Blowhole's Segway, Skipper grinned.

"Victory sure is _sweet_," he remarked.

Kowalski, who was standing next to him with a remote control in his flipper, nodded. "We really rubbed it into his face this time."

"Yeah, yeah!" Rico agreed, his flippers on a big red button next to Kowalski, "KABOOM!"

"So... are we safe now?" asked Private.

"Definitely," Kowalski replied.

"Or at least, until he plans his next revenge..." Skipper added, "But let's just hope it doesn't involve anything infectious then, right boys?"

* * *

**And that's a wrap! That was one good story.**  
**Kowalski: Indeed.**  
**So here's to the ending of a good story. As I said, I had fun writing this. _Adios_, readers! Until next story!**  
**Kowalski: Bye!**


End file.
